


Stuck On You

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Blind, Disappointed But Not Surprised Stanley Pines, Existential College Grad Dipper Pines, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Supportive and Loving Mabel Pines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:12:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper has a Devil's Trap on his hand, Bill is a blind demon and the two of them can't seem to let the other go. </p><p>(inspired by officialspec's blind au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hand to Hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OfficialSpec](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialSpec/gifts).



> get ready for an awkward 20-something, a demon with unnecessary emotions, cold pizza, minimal dancing, and the repercussions of not being able to let someone go
> 
> inspired by - http://propertyofspec.tumblr.com/post/121091759076/whats-the-gist-of-the-blind-au

Summer buzzed at the corners of the Mystery Shack, leaving the air thick and damp with the promise of a storm. Eyelids drooping, Dipper sat behind the counter, staring listlessly at the empty shop. Days like this were always slow at the Shack, tourists choosing to duck inside their air conditioned motel rooms and half cleaned pools rather than make the trek out to the back forests of Gravity Falls. Letting out a sigh, Dipper wiped his brow beneath is hat, unsatisfied with the work the sputtering AC was doing of keeping him cool.  

It had been two weeks since Dipper had started working at the Shack full time. Two weeks of stocking t-shirts, super-glueing exhibits back together and dealing with sticky, crying children before noon. Two weeks since Dipper had graduated college, and with a sudden, ill planned change of heart, decided he had waited long enough to return home. 

Gravity Falls had never really left Dipper, though it had been years since he had last been. He still kept the journals hidden in the back of the top desk drawer in his dorm, checking up on them every so often. The town didn’t haunt him, per se. It simply clung onto him, left him with a longing in the pit of his stomach. He read online forums, chased down empty story leads, did all he could to check up on the town without actually going there. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do. He knew if he went, he could never leave again. So Dipper trudged through university with as much focus as he could muster, dragging pieces of the town along with him. 

It was the first month of his freshman year when he got his first tattoo. A ring of pine trees, wrapping around his left bicep. The first piece of Gravity Falls he was ready to carry with him forever. The tattoos seemed to crawl up and down his arm from that point on, reaching from the peak of his shoulder to the edge of his wrist. It had been midway through his senior year when he had completed the sleeve. A devil’s trap, placed on top of his left hand. It had hurt like hell, but felt more permanent than any of the other tattoos had. Like it was unchanging, in a way Dipper hoped to be. 

He should’ve seen it coming from a mile away, what with his weak impulse control and tendency for nostalgia. But the decision to move back to Gravity Falls had come as a bit of a surprise. Out of college, no place to live and no job to pursue, Dipper was unsure of where else to go. So, he packed up his things and booked a one way ticket to Oregon. It wasn’t long after that he called Mabel, halfway across the country wrapping up art school, and asked the impossible of her. To choose Gravity Falls, the Shack, and whatever existential baggage Dipper was carrying with him over her own future in art. Being the remarkable sister she was, of course she said yes, and packed immediately. Wendy had moved up north (something about a lumber business) and Soos had started his own repair shop right in downtown Gravity Falls. This left two spots open at the Shack. A week later, without so much as a heads up, Dipper and Mabel appeared on Stan’s front steps. They crammed back into their old room, and started working the next day. Though not a word was spoken to affirm it, Dipper knew Stan well enough to understand when his Grunkle was happy, and he was happy. 

Dipper reintroduced himself to the town, to the forest, to the strange corners and dark hollows it was home to, and settled into the summer once more. Two weeks of Gravity Falls, just the way he had left it. Two weeks, and Dipper was starting to feel like himself again. 

 

“Dipper, I’m taking lunch!” Mabel called to him from the back room, her head poking out around the doorway. Dipper nodded, rubbing his hands over his face in attempt to remind himself he was, in fact, a responsive human. 

“Right, yeah, go ahead.” He said, offering a small smile. Pony tail bobbing behind her, Mabel came around the doorway. Her usual sweater had been traded out for a crop top, shimmering above a pair of patch covered mom jeans. She had been doing inventory all day, the kind of work that the twins detested equally so had to trade off doing daily. Today was Mabel’s day, so Dipper had no qualms with her taking lunch before he did. 

“You seem out of it today, Dipping Dots.” She said, tapping her chin in fake inquisition. Dipper braced himself out of habit. “Would it, perhaps, have something to do with the fact that there’s a certain monster you haven’t seen lately?” 

“Mabel,” Dipper began, his tone warning. 

“‘What monster is that?’ one might ask!” Mabel continued, approaching the counter slowly. “Why, only the most fearsome monster in all of Gravity Falls!” 

“Mabel, seriously,” Dipper continued, his composure breaking slightly to allow a small grin in. This was the only fuel Mabel needed. In a moment, she was bolting around the counter. She took off after Dipper with her arms outstretched, fingers wriggling. 

“The tickle monster returns, and this time,” Mabel shouted with conviction. Dipper, laughing as he ran, darted out from a corner Mabel had practically backed him into. “It’s personal!”

Just as he was about to slam into a rack of magnets, Mabel stopped short in front of him. Her head shot around at the sound of the Shack’s door opening with a jingle. Cautiously, Dipper peaked around her. The man in the doorway couldn’t have been a year older than Dipper, but stood a full head shorter. All blonde hair and dark skin, Dipper couldn’t help but be taken by surprise. It wasn’t that he looked odd, but he certainly didn’t look like the typical costumer that showed up to the Shack. No Hawaiian shirt, no disposable camera held in hand. Simply a hoodie and a pair of dark sunglasses. Yet he carried himself as if he knew exactly where he wanted to be, and he had arrived. 

 

“Catch you later, bro bro.” Mabel said with a smile, ducking out through the back room just as the customer entered the threshold. Dipper, with a nervous laugh, moved back towards the counter. The customer seemed unfazed. 

“Sorry about that.” Dipper began, his face heating up fast. He stopped talking at that, worried he would simply embarrass himself more if he continued. Much to his surprise, the customer cracked a small smile. 

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” He said, perking up at the sound of Dipper’s voice. His ears seemed to lead his head to turn. “Sure it was nothing too bad.” At this, the man removed his sunglasses and tucked them inside the pocket of his hoodie. Unseeing, two large, foggy blue eyes rested easily in Dipper’s general direction. Blind. The customer wad blind, and Dipper was a idiot. The man grinned. “Mind showing me where the novelty mugs are?” It took Dipper a moment for his brain to catch up with his body, but by the time it did, he was already rushing over to the costumer’s side. 

“Shit, yeah, of course.” Dipper said, unsure of how to do just that. “Um, can I…” Carefully, Dipper reached down and let his fingers ghost along the other man’s hand. The costumer just nodded, opening his hand for Dipper to take. Dipper took it, slipping their hands together without letting their fingers interlock. Driven by nerves, Dipper led the man over towards the shelf of mugs. Each was pattered with large question marks or sayings such as “Can you believe it?”, “Mystery is Everywhere” or “No Refunds”. Dipper smiled to himself.  

“I take it we’re here?” The customer asked, his voice playful. Dipper could feel his face turning pink. 

“Sorry.” He muttered. “Do you, um, need help grabbing one?” He asked. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” With that, the customer reached out his free hand,  carefully letting it touch the shelf, then move up slightly to grope for a mug. In seconds, he caught onto a handle and lifted it from the shelf. Cautious as he was, he moved with a certain dexterity, one that Dipper tried not to marvel at. 

“Ok, great. I can just ring you up back here." A bit embarrassed about the fact that he was still holding the stranger’s hand, Dipper moved to return to the cash register. But as Dipper pulled away, he could feel the customer tug him back. Confused, Dipper turned back to himThe costumer stared straight ahead, his expression just as confused as Dipper felt.

“Sorry, can I help you with anything else?” Dipper asked politely. 

“No, no.” The costumer insisted, and this time he moved to pull away, only to drag Dipper back with him. Dipper stared. He tried to flex his left hand, the one currently held in the customer’s grasp. It was as if, below the wrist, he was numb. His hand wouldn’t move as he willed it to, but remained fast in the other man’s grip. 

“Dude, I don’t mean to be rude, but do you mind letting go for a second?” Dipper asked, trying not to panic. 

“I can’t.” The costumer muttered, almost too quiet for Dipper to hear. 

“You what?” Dipper asked, his mind whirring. 

“I said I can’t!” The costumer shot back, his voice panicked. “You didn’t lure me into some shit, did you?” 

“What? No!” Dipper insisted, confused by the sudden accusation. “Lure you into what?”

“I swear to whatever God is below me, if I’m standing in a Devil’s Trap right now-” The customer warned, his expression growing angrier by the minute. 

“Wait, a Devil’s Trap? Like the one on my hand?” Dipper asked. The costumer’s mouth dropped open. 

“You’ve got a fucking Devil’s Trap on your hand?” The stranger shouted. Dipper jumped back, simply dragging the costumer with him. He sneered. “Kid, why the hell do you have a Devil’s Trap on your hand?” 

“It’s a tattoo,” Dipper started, trying to process everything that was occurring. “But why does that matter?” 

“Because I’m a fucking demon!” The customer shot back, his glassy eyes narrowing into slits. Dipper stood in silence.

 “Holy shit.” Dipper finally muttered, his chest suddenly feeling too tight for his ribs. 

“I can guarantee there’s nothing holy about me.” The demon snarled. Dipper had never encountered a demon before, only read about them in the journals. But he knew they were dangerous. Really, really dangerous. “Why didn’t you tell me you had goddamn Devil’s Trap tattoo?” Dipper raised his eyebrows, his anger fleeting into irritation. 

 “I dunno, why didn’t you tell me you were a demon?” Dipper asked, his voice thick with frustration. The demon smirked. 

“Touché.” He muttered. There was an awkward silence, filled only by the buzzing of cicadas outside the Shack’s front door. Finally, the demon let out a small sigh. “Listen, kid. I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

"That seems unlikely.” Dipper replied. The demon scoffed. 

“Do you even know how a Devil’s Trap works?” The demon questioned. “My powers are jammed, if I’m lucky the most I’d be able to do are some parlor tricks.” He muttered. “And what else am I supposed to do? Punch you?” Dipper tensed up. That seemed like a realistic scenario. Sensing his discomfort, the demon took a step forward and lifted his free hand. It hovered just about Dipper’s right arm. “Any other freaky tattoos I should know about?” Dipper shook his head, before realizing his mistake and mumbling a hurried “No”. Nodding, the demon began to run his hand up Dipper’s arm. It crossed his shoulder, and patted up his neck. Dipper stood still, completely frozen in place. The demon’s hand jabbed at his cheek once before landing to rest of his head. He let out a laugh. 

“Yeah, something tells me physical violence isn’t gonna work on a giant like you.” The demon said, letting his hand fall back again to his side. So, Dipper wasn’t in any immediate danger, which was a small comfort. But he still wasn’t keen on spending a moment more with the demon then he had to. 

“C’mon, I know someone who might be able to help.” Dipper muttered, turning around and moving to walk out of the Shack. The demon, no choice but to follow, let out an indignant sound. 

“Stop walking so fast, you’re gonna make me trip!” The demon cried, following Dipper out the Shack’s door, barely avoiding a collision. 

“Good.” Dipper said, and continued on his way.


	2. Approaching Storm

Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, rolling over the mountains that surrounded the sleepy town. The first rains of the summer always came with a great deal of fanfare in Gravity Falls, leaving the sky a damp, rolling grey, and the inhabits wary of even stepping outside. A storm like this was brewing just on the horizon, leaving the air thick and electric. Lighting blinked in the distance, still barely visible from the town. The forest, usual lit by sun through the canopy of towering pines and oaks, was darker today. Dipper wondered if it was simply his imagination, but it seemed as if the storm was barreling straight towards the Shack itself. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask me my name?” Dipper trudged through the forest, intent on ignoring the demon he was tugging along in his wake. 

“No.” Dipper stated firmly, dodging slightly to avoid a root. The demon, shifting with Dipper’s movement, dodged it as well. 

“It’s Bill. Bill Cipher.” The demon, Bill, added cheerily. Dipper rolled his eyes. “And yours is?”  
“Why on earth would I tell you my name?” Dipper asked, pushing a branch out of his way. Bill, being a good head shorter than him, simply slipped under it without noticing. 

“Because, it’s good manners.” Bill replied, his grin obvious in his tone. “Don’t you humans care about things like that?” Dipper shook his head, choosing to humor the demon rather than put up a fight. It was less exhausting this way. 

“Fine. My name is Dipper.” He finally muttered, accepting his fate. After a moment of silence, Bill burst out laughing, a noise that startled Dipper. Stopping short, Dipper let the demon bump into his back. Still laughing, Bill took a step back as Dipper turned to face him. 

“Dipper?” Bill asked incredulously. “You sure that’s not your last name? And your first name isn’t Big?” 

“No, my last name is Pines!” Dipper shot back, instantly regretting his words. Bill, if possible, began to laugh harder. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He deadpanned, briefly suppressing laughter. “You’re a fucking giant, and your last name is ‘Pines’?” 

“Yeah, so?” Dipper asked, his face growing hot. Bill chuckled, a sound that was beginning to really get on Dipper’s nerves. 

“Nothing. C’mon let’s go.” Bill began, allowing Dipper to start walking ahead of him once more. “Lead the way, Pine Tree.” 

“What did you just call me?” Dipper asked, resisting the urge to stop once again 

“Oh, you heard me.” Bill replied confidently. Dipper, growing more and more impressed at his ability to not turn around and punch the demon behind him, just clenched his free fist and continued walking. It was only a moment before Dipper heard a yell, and the tell-tale sound of a body hitting the ground. 

“This way.” He said, giving Bill a tug as a cue to speed up. A few more feet, and Dipper was standing on the cusp of a clearing. 

“What the hell is going on?” Bill asked, coming up beside Dipper. 

“My Great Uncle Ford. That’s what’s going on.” Dipper replied, watching as Ford pulled himself up from the ground, pushing ten gnomes as he went. The second he was on his feet, he began kicking the small men left and right. Over a decade had passed since Stanford Pines had reemerged from the portal in the basement of the Mystery Shack, and despite his increasing age, his passion for the paranormal had not died out. In his two weeks back in town, Ford had already dragged Dipper out on two hunts for precious herbs, a hike through the deep woods to find a certain species of swamp creature, and a trip into the mountains to chase after yet another Bigfoot. Dipper had loved every second of it. 

“Tiny bastards!” Ford yelled, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Can’t a man collect mineral samples in peace?”

“Ford!” Dipper called, waving his right arm to get his Grunkle’s attention. Kicking another gnome out of his way, Ford turned around. 

“Dipper, my boy!” His Grunkle called back, shoving his way through the gnomes. “One moment,” With a flourish, he pulled out a hand held vacuum, from one of the deeper pockets of his large jacket. Starting it up, he turned around, brandishing it over the heads of the gathering of gnomes at his feet. In a rush, they scurried away, back into the recesses of the forest around them. Ford grinned. “Mabel taught me that one. Clever girl.” He muttered, turning around to flash a grin at his nephew. Tucking the vacuum away once more, he paused when he caught sight of Bill, standing stiffly beside Dipper. “Whose your friend?” 

“Um, this is Bill.” Dipper began carefully. “And I wouldn’t exactly call us friends.” He added. Raising an eyebrow, Ford’s eyes went from Dipper’s face, to Bill’s, before he finally caught sight of their interlocked hands. 

“Right, of course!” Ford began once more. “Boyfriend, then?” Dipper’s face turned a worrying shade of pink, before he took and deep breath and suppressed it back into somewhat of a ghostly white. 

“N-no!” He stuttered, thrown by the accusation. “No, Ford. He’s not-“

“Bill Cipher, dream demon, not currently at your service! Pleasure’s all mine.” Bill interrupted, extending his free hand.

“A demon!” Ford exclaimed, jumping back slightly before hurriedly righting himself. “Dipper, what are you doing? Get away from him!” Dipper groaned. 

“Ford, I really,” He started, but was interrupted by Ford pulling out the handheld vacuum and brandishing it once again, this time at Bill. 

“Dipper, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but demons aren’t to be messed with.”  


“I know that,” 

“Step away, my boy, this isn’t a joke!” 

“Ford!” Dipper finally yelled, much to Ford’s surprise. “I can’t. 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Ford asked, vacuum still at the ready.

“I mean, we’re stuck together.” Dipper stated, raising his hand (and subsequently Bill’s) to illustrate his point. Ford paused, pondering for a moment.

“Did Mabel cover you in glitter glue in your sleep again?” Ford finally asked, examining Dipper’s body for any sign of sparkle. Bill suppressed a snort.

“It’s my tattoo.” Dipper explained. “The Devil’s Trap. I took his hand, and he didn’t see the tattoo, and I didn’t know he was a fucking _demon_ ,” Ford was examining Bill intently at this point, cautiously stepped towards his nephew and the demon attached to him. 

“A blind demon. How fascinating.” He mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. Bill sneered, alerting Dipper immediately to his anger. 

“Right, yeah. But, um, is there anyway we could,” Dipper began, trying to distract his Grunkle from going right up and poking Bill in the face. “You know. Detach.” 

“We can exorcise him.” Ford suggested. Bill cocked an eyebrow. 

“And where exactly would I go?” He asked, sarcasm tinging his tone. “My demon form is just as trapped as my physical form.” He raised his free hand in exasperation. “Seriously, does no one here know how a Devil’s Trap works?” 

“Well, we can always try consulting-“ Ford cut himself off, his eyes darting over to Bill. Carefully, he learned over to Dipper. “The Journals.” He whispered. 

“I can still hear you.” Bill deadpanned, before a grin slowly crept onto his face. “What are the journals? Don’t tell me, Pine Tree here has a diary!”

“Again with the nickname?” Dipper asked icily. Bill’s grin simply winded. Ford grimaced. 

“Come with me, Dipper.” He muttered, still not addressing the demon. “The sooner we get him out of here, the better.” Dipper nodded, turning to follow his Grunkle as he made his way back into the woods.

“Au contraire, old man!” Bill exclaimed, allowing himself to be tugged along by Dipper once more. “I’m just starting to enjoy myself.” 

 

The Shack was, unsurprisingly, empty when Dipper returned with Bill in tow. Another drum beat of thunder as the cloud bank creeped it’s away towards town, towards the Shack. Dipper followed his Grunkle inside, thankful to have escaped whatever rain was coming. Ford turned on his heel once he had reached the threshold, regarding Dipper with somewhat of an apprehensive gaze.

“And you’re sure he can’t hurt you?” Ford asked, reaffirming a point Dipper had made on the walk back. 

“Once again, I’m right here.” Bill said, not allowing Dipper to respond. “And no, sadly I can’t remove his teeth one by one.” Dipper practically choked on his own spit, setting Bill off on a peel of laughter. “Kidding, kidding!” Ford looked more terrified than Dipper had ever seen him. 

“Don’t worry, Ford. I can take care of myself.” Dipper insisted, trying to somehow comfort his obviously distressed Grunkle. Ford had dealt with all forms of the supernatural before, but he had never mentioned an encounter with a demon. It was clear, however, that to Ford a demon was certainly a force to be reckoned with. Dipper tried not to let it worry him.

“I trust you can, Dipper.” Ford finally said, his lips tight. “My worry is that you can’t take care of him.” He finished, eyes darting over to Bill. 

“I won’t be an ounce of trouble!” Bill interrupted once more, flashing a disconcerting smile. “Cross my heart.” He continued, using his left hand to do just that. 

“Ford, go see what you can find. I’ve got this.” Dipper reassured. Giving a quick nod, Ford patted his nephew on the shoulder once before heading out the door of the shack, leaving Dipper and Bill alone once more. 

“So, got any ideas on how to pass the time?” Bill asked innocently. 

“Why don’t you tell me why the hell you were here in the first place?” Dipper asked pointedly. 

“A question game, I like it!” Bill smiled, an action he seemed quite fond of. “We are gonna be spending some time together, so we might as well get to know each other.” He reasoned.

“This isn’t a game.” Dipper insisted, rounding on the demon. 

“Of course not, Pine Tree.” Bill nodded. “I’ll go first. Ever killed anyone?”

“What? God, no! What kind of question is that?” Dipper sputtered. “Wait, have you?” Bill shrugged.

“Sorry, one question at a time!” Bill exclaimed defensively. Dipper sneered. “So, to answer your first inquiry, it’s a great question.” 

“That wasn’t-“ 

“My turn again!” Bill interrupted, still facing Dipper. At this proximity, he seemed all the more able to hit. Dipper pondered this. “Why did you chose to do something as dumb as get a Devil’s Trap on your hand?”

“I’m not explaining my tattoos to you.” Dipper insisted.

“So there are more?” Bill questioned, seeming equally delighted and disturbed by this fact. 

“Nice try, but it’s my turn.” Dipper stated. If the only way to learn anything about this demon was through this silly game, he would play along. “What are you doing in Gravity Falls?” 

“I go plenty of places on business.” 

“Business?” Dipper questioned. 

“Yes, now isn’t it my turn?” Bill returned with a smirk. 

“Great question.” Dipper laughed, relishing the flustered look on his face when Bill realized his mistake. “Now, what’s your business?” 

“You’re tricky.” Bill said, his expression quickly degrading into a sneer. Dipper gulped, involuntarily taking a step back, only to be reminded that Bill would follow. Vaulting forward, Dipper reached out, his free hand landing on Bill’s shoulder to steady him. Bill cracked a smile. “Kidding! Man, you’re a jumpy one.” 

“Answer the question.” Dipper demanded, trying to keep the demon’s constantly shifting attitude from getting to him. 

“I’m bored of this game.” Bill insisted, moving to take a step back. Dipper kept him in place. 

“I’m not.” After a tense silence, Bill finally let out a sigh, accepting the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere until the question was answered.

“I make deals, kid. People want something from me, I get something from them.” Bill explained, his unseeing eyes resting just below Dipper’s chin, refusing to face him. “Simple transactions.” 

“Demonic transactions.” Dipper muttered.

“It’s not your turn to ask questions.” Bill chided.

“That wasn’t a question.” At this, Bill’s head turned upward, his eyes falling on Dipper’s face. Dipper drew in a breath. There was certainly something demonic about Bill. Something otherworldly, just under his skin, buzzing beneath his gaze. It was different than the monster’s Dipper had faced in the past, however. There was no clear malice, no undirected anger. Simply morbid curiosity, the kind that led to children poking dead things with sticks.

“And what are you doing here?” Bill finally asked. It seemed that in this scenario, Bill was the child, and Dipper was the roadkill. 

“I work here.” Dipper answered, more timid than he had hoped. He cleared his throat. “Thought that was obvious enough.”

“I don’t mean this backwater giftshop, Pine Tree. I mean Gravity Falls.” Dipper raised his eyebrows. “A kid with a Devil’s Trap on his hand, some mysterious “Journals”, and a great uncle who fights with what sounded like gnomes?” Bill’s eyes remained on Dipper’s face, unseeing and somehow still searching. Morbid curiosity, and something else, something darker that Dipper couldn’t quite place. “You’re here for something more than novelty mugs.” Before Dipper could respond, the front door of the Shack swung open. Surprised by the sudden noise, Bill tipped slightly, leading him to shift his weight forward and directly onto Dipper. The two fell, straight to the floor, Dipper’s back landing first on the hardwood floor, and Bill landing heavily on his torso. He let out a sharp breath at the impact. Dipper’s gaze shifted up and back, to find Mabel, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Eyebrows slowly creeping towards her hairline, she let out a small giggle. 

“Well, you two certainly got to know each other!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, huge thank you to everyone who left kudos/comments and bookmarked!!  
> second of all, this chapter started to show more details of the au we're in. for example, ford is an admittedly grumpy but still nice old man (who we will learn more about later???), bill has never been encountered before and dipper is still a huge dork.  
> thanks for reading!!


	3. Cookie Dough and Commonality

With a booming roar, the sky broke, releasing a downpour of rain. Startled, Mabel turned around and latched the screen door. Stepping into the gift shop, she stopped right in front of Dipper’s head. Dipper could feel the slight rise and fall of Bill’s chest on his own, and for a moment, he simply lay there, unsure of what else to do. 

“Why, Pine Tree, how forward of you.” Bill muttered cheekily, his free hand searching for solid ground. Snapping out of his own thoughts, Dipper took his free hand and gripped Bill’s elbow, steadying his hand. 

“Can you stand?” He asked, his face hot under the amused gaze of his sister. Bill nodded, and carefully the two of them got to their feet once more. There was a moment of silence, only broken by the pattering of rain upon the Shack’s roof. 

“Dipper, aren’t you gonna introduce us?” Mabel finally asked, beaming. Dipper opened and closed his mouth, words failing. He suspected he looked an awful lot like a fish. When he didn’t respond, Mabel simply shook her head, still smiling fondly. “I’m Mabel, Dipper’s sister!” Bill grinned. 

“Bill Cipher, pleasure’s all yours.” At this, Mabel burst out laughing, bouncing slightly on her heels in sheer excitement.

“I like him.” Mabel stage whispered to Dipper, who had only at this moment realized what the hell was going on. “I can see you’ve already gotten to know my bro-bro.” She turned to Bill, glancing at their linked hands. “Let me assure you, he’s not always grumpy.”  
“I’m not grumpy!” Dipper said indignantly. Bill chuckled, his clouded eyes crinkling at the edges. “And Mabel, it’s not like that.” 

“Not like what?” She asked, head cocking slightly. “Oh, gosh, you two are dating right? Sorry, the whole holding hands thing, I just assumed,” 

“Bill’s a demon, Mabel.” Dipper interrupted. She took a slight step back, first looking at Dipper, then Bill, then their intertwined hands. She took a breath, before smiling once more. She reached out and poked Dipper on the arm. 

“Oh, well, ok!” She started with a small laugh, before shaking her head and brightening up. “Oh, Dipper! I don’t care if you’re dating a demon! As long as you’re happy.” She said, supportive as always. Dipper could only stare. 

“Yeah, Pine Tree. Why be ashamed?” Bill asked, cracking a smile. Dipper groaned. 

“We’re not- Mabel, we’re not dating. Or holding hands.” Dipper clarified. “We’re stuck like this.” He held up their connected hands, showing his twin exactly what he meant. Mabel stared at Dipper, her brow furrowed. His expression unsure, Dipper met her gaze. Dipper was capable, that much was obvious. He was capable and not easily scared. But Mabel could tell that right now, Dipper was neither of the those things. He was just getting better at hiding it. But that didn’t mean Mabel was gonna stop looking out for him. 

“Ok,” Mabel started, clapping her hands together and offering a smile. “Who wants cookies?” 

 

The kitchen was thankfully empty when they arrived, Mabel whistling as she entered. Dipper followed behind her, Bill coming in beside him. 

“Mabel, no offense,” Dipper began. “But you’re a horrible baker.” 

“That’s why we have this.” She said, waltzing over to the fridge. Opening the off-white door, she revealed two rolls of tollhouse cookie dough, the kind you simply smack on a pan and bake. “Easy-peasy.” Dipper couldn’t help but smile. Mabel busied herself looking for a pan as Dipper led Bill towards the kitchen table. He was about to sit when he realized the glaring problem.  
“Shit, sorry. We’re at a table, and um, you can sit…” Dipper started, dragging two chairs closer to each other. He pulled both chairs out a bit from the table, moving one chair directly behind Bill. “You can sit now.” Bill, obviously amused, didn’t put up a fight. His free hand finding the chair first, he sat down in it. Dipper sat down as well, so he was facing Bill, their intertwined hands hanging loosely between them. 

“So, Bill.” Mabel began, setting a pan on the stovetop as she preheated the oven. Picking up one of the rolls, she unwrapped it and tore a small piece of the dough off the side. Popping it in her mouth, she spoke around it as she chewed. “Any reason why you’re stuck to my brother?”  
“Pine Tree over here decided to be a gentlemen and lead me somewhere,” Bill began. “Is there anything I’m missing?” He asked, pretending to ponder. “Oh right! He failed to mention he had a fucking Devil’s Trap on his hand.” Dipper clenched his jaw, trying to remain calm. 

“And Bill failed to mention he was a literally the Devil.” Dipper muttered bitterly. 

“The Devil wishes.” Bill shot back. 

“Ok, ok!” Mabel exclaimed, throwing open the silverware drawer beside the stove and pulling out three spoons. “Baking will take too long, you two need this now.” Snatching up the two rolls of cookie dough in her other hand, she walked to the table and sat down across from Dipper and Bill. She placed two spoons and an unwrapped roll in front of them. “Eat. And no more bickering!” Grudgingly, Dipper picked up a spoon. 

“You want a spoon?” He asked testily. Bill furrowed his brow. 

“For what?” He asked in response. Dipper mentally chastised himself for once again forgoing an explanation for Bill. 

“Um, cookie dough.” He said. Bill still seemed confused. “Just unbaked cookie dough.” He clarified. Still no recognition on Bill’s part. “Wait, have you ever had cookie dough?” He asked. 

“No.” Bill said, obviously not understanding the gravity of the situation. 

“You’ve never had cookie dough?” Mabel demanded, seeming genuinely outraged. 

“No?” Bill repeated, though this time it sounded more like a question. 

“It’s good, trust me.” Dipper said with a chuckle, picking up Bill’s spoon for him and scooping some of the half-frozen dough into it. “Can I put the spoon in your hand?” He asked. Bill nodded, holding out his free hand. Gingerly, Dipper set the spoon down in it. Bill gripped in, unaware of the intense gaze Mabel had fixed on him. He took the entire spoonful in one bite, chewing thoughtfully. His eyebrows shot up. 

“Amazing, right?” Mabel asked with a giggle. Bill could only nod. 

“You can have more,” Dipper began, taking Bill’s spoon once more. He scooped more dough, and handed the spoon over again, Bill’s open hand waiting. “Here,” He said, pushing the roll towards the demon in front of him just as he was finishing his second spoonful. Delicately taking Bill’s wrist, he guided his hand down towards the roll. “Just scoop.” Bill could feel the dough hitting his spoon, and let the tip dig into it, coming up with a full spoonful. Dipper smiled. “There, now you’ve had cookie dough.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Mabel, staring at him oddly. Half sisterly affection, half something else. Something more serious. Clearing his throat, Dipper turned to her. “Anyway, Bill came into the Shack, I took his hand, we got stuck and now Ford is off looking for something to fix this.” He summarized hurriedly. Mabel nodded, digging into her own roll of cookie dough. 

“So, you’re a demon?” Mabel asked Bill casually, as if she was asking for the time. Bill nodded, mouth still full. 

“A pretty useless one, at the moment. Shame about this whole Devil’s Trap, or this whole house would be on fire and you’d both be inside out!” He said cheerily through a mouthful of cookie dough. Dipper froze, staring wide eyed at his sister. She blinked once, startled, before relaxing slightly into a smile. 

“Then who would be here to give you cookie dough?” She asked. Bill nodded, considering her statement. 

“Fair point.” He decided, going in for another spoonful. Mabel smiled, satisfied. “Alright, Bill the Demon, Detective Mabel has got some serious questions for you.” She continued, leaning back in her chair. 

“And Bill the Demon has an unlimited supply of vague, slightly menacing answers!” Bill responded, seeming to perk up at the idea of another “question game”. Dipper could feel his stomach threaten to drop. 

“Perfect,” Mabel continued, and for some reason, she didn’t seem the slightest bit intimidated. Dipper couldn’t help but smile at his sister’s unwavering positivity, even in the face of a literal demon. “First question.” She said, her tone challenging. Dipper held is breath, unsure of how Bill would respond. “Where did you get that sweater?” Dipper stared. Mabel held a serious look in her eyes, focussed on the sweater Bill was wearing. It was a bright yellow hoodie, with a small, black bow tie detail right below the V of the collar. It had what appeared to be a pattern of bricks on the hood and pocket of the sweatshirt, and Bill had rolled the sleeves up to just below his elbows. He seemed almost surprised by the question, but grinned the moment he understood just what she was asking. 

“Came with the meat suit!” He responded cheerily, and Dipper realized he had been right to be scared.

“Excuse me?” He asked, rightfully taken aback. 

“Relax, kid.” Bill appeased. “Everything’s custom made.”

“So you made your own body?” Mabel asked curiously. 

“With my own two lobes!” Bill answered, seemingly proud. 

“Whoa.” Mabel muttered. “Then how did-“ She glanced at Dipper, biting her lip. Dipper furrowed his brown, before he realized what she was about to ask. If Bill had made his body, why was he blind? Before he could say anything, she had already moved on. “I mean, how did you get here? To Gravity Falls.” She finished hastily. 

“Already asked him that one.” Dipper muttered. “Business, right?” He asked sarcastically. Bill smirked.

“Oh my gosh!” Mabel exclaimed through a mouthful of cookie dough. “Are you like a traveling salesman? Stan needs to talk to you!” Bill cackled. 

“Something like that.” He started, but Dipper interrupted him. 

“He’s makes deals, Mabel. Isn’t that right, Bill?” He asked. “Demonic deals.” Bill shrugged.  
“Gotta get by somehow.” He answered. “Can’t just float around and piss off priests anymore. Not in this economy.” Dipper rolled his eyes. 

“And what does that have to do with Gravity Falls?” 

“Everything!” Bill responded cheerily. “You’d be surprised, Pine Tree. Your town is the perfect place for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dipper asked, a challenge in his voice. 

“Dipper.” Mabel warned.  
“Oh, I think you know.” Bill answered. “Something tells me that Devil’s Trap on your hand isn’t just for show.” Dipper shot out of his seat, tugging Bill’s arm up as he went. Bill simply went with his hand, standing up, his chair toppling behind him. And when he spoke, Dipper swore the room got colder. “You know there’s something different about this town, kid. Just like me.” Despite his intensity, his tone wasn’t dark, nor threatening. He was stating a fact, a distinct line of commonality between Dipper and himself. Dipper wasn’t sure what to say. Of course he knew Gravity Falls was different. He’d grown up there, fought monsters there, seen the secrets the town held. But how did Bill know? So caught up in the conversation, Dipper hadn’t heard the footsteps in the hall before they were already in the kitchen. 

“God, you wouldn’t believe the money those swamp tours made!” Stan said as he came into the kitchen, making a bee-line for the fridge. “Take a bunch of terrified people to a swamp, tell them some giant lizard is under them and BOOM, they all pay extra for the Mystery Shack’s Patented Lizard Repelling Spray.” Marveling at his own genius, Stan reached into the fridge and tugged out a carton of milk. He gave it a solid swing before turning around to face the kitchen table. Dipper and Mabel stared back, Dipper still holding Bill’s hand, Mabel still holding a half eaten roll of cookie dough.

“How many strange old men are you hiding in here, Pine Tree?” Bill asked. 

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper exclaimed. “Um, I can explain.”

“Bill is blind and Dipper held his hand and now they’re stuck because Bill is a demon and Dipper has that Devil’s Trap on his hand!” Mabel explained in a rush. Dipper swiveled his head to stare at her. She shrugged. “Thought it’d be easier to get it all out at once.” Stan stared at all three of them, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this.” He muttered, and put the milk back in the fridge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more mabel + grunkle stan!! and i promise, there will be more characters and more fluff very soon


	4. Nightfall

It had taken the better part of an hour to first explain the situation to Grunkle Stan, then calm him down from the state he had worked himself into. The latter had been done more by Mabel, due to the fact that Dipper was busy keeping a very amused Bill behind him. 

“Grunkle Stan, listen to me!” Mabel had insisted. 

“Demon son of a bitch! Let me at him!” Grunkle Stan had yelled back. Ford showed up soon there after, talking to his brother in all even tones and logical words. The fighter in Stan had subsided, allowing his twin to explain what he had found. 

“Nothing. A demon can only be freed if the Devil’s Trap it’s stuck in is destroyed.” Ford said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit Dipper had picked up on over the years.

“And cutting Pine Tree’s arm off is out of the question?” Bill asked from behind Dipper. Grunkle Stan clenched his fists. 

“Wanna repeat that?” He threatened. 

“Kidding!” Bill quickly amended with a chuckle. 

“Grunkle Stan, it’s ok.” Dipper reassured. “He can’t hurt me.” Though Dipper wasn’t sure if this was entirely true, it seemed like the thing to say. Grunkle Stan stared at him, then at his brother. Ford nodded, gripping his twin’s shoulder reassuringly. Grunkle Stan shook his head, a gesture of acceptance. 

“So, you went and got yourself stuck to a demon?” Grunkle Stan asked, taking a swing of his beer. Dipper nodded, offering a half smile. “This is a low point, even for you kid.” He muttered, smiling back. 

“Yeah, I really did it this time.” Dipper replied, giving a small chuckle. He could feel the heat of Bill against his back, and tried to ignore his own heartbeat. It seemed to match Bill’s. 

“See, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asked, grinning. “There’s nothing to worry about. Right, Bill?” 

“Of course!” Bill perked up from behind Dipper. Dipper got out of the way, allowing Stan to look at the demon. Bill raised his hand, bringing Dipper’s with it. “See? Practically powerless in every way.” 

“Stanley,” Ford began. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got nothing to worry about.” Stan interrupted, glancing at his brother. “Keep looking, ok?” He muttered. Ford nodded. “Until then…welcome?” He said, turning to Bill. “I guess. Um, we have food here. If you eat that.”

“Wait, Bill!” Dipper started. “Earlier you mentioned something about parlor tricks, right?” Bill shrugged. 

“Yeah.” He began. “The Devil’s Trap can’t render me totally useless. Nothing is that powerful.” Trying to ignore the casual gravity of this statement, Dipper continued.  
“So, what can you still do?” Dipper glanced briefly at Stan, who met his gaze with puzzled expression 

“Basic stuff, you know, like object dissipation.” Bill answered. 

“The kind of stuff people in the Shack would love, right?” Dipper asked, this time regarding Stan. Stan stared for a moment before his face split into a wide grin. 

“Cipher, I’ll make you a deal.” Stan began. “You make shit disappear in my Shack, and I won’t make you leave.”

“Thought we decided we weren’t cutting Pine Tree’s arm off?” Bill asked with a smirk. 

“Never said anything about yours.” Stan replied. Bill grinned. 

“I like your style, Stanley!” He exclaimed, surprising Stan. Bill nodded, confirming Stan’s earlier offer. “Deal. I’ll freak some dumb humans out, and Pine Tree won’t be left with a disembodied hand stuck to him.” Dipper shuttered at the mental image. 

“Glad we could come to an agreement.” Stan said. 

“Oh my gosh, Dipper! You’re a genius.” Mabel exclaimed, clasping her hands together in excitement. “Isn’t this great?” Mabel asked, smiling at Stan. 

“Yeah, that’s one word for it.” Stan grumbled. “Well, I’m going to bed.”

“I think I’ll have to do the same.” Ford added, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. “And Dipper,” He said, putting his glasses back on and staring pointedly at his grand-nephew. “The search isn’t over.” And with that, the older Pines twins left the kitchen, muttering quietly to themselves as they went. Mabel stared after them for a moment, her smile briefly faltering. She turned to Dipper and Bill once more, a determined expression on her face. 

“Bill, don’t worry, they’ll warm up to you in no time.” Mabel reassured. “In the mean time,” She started. “I have some macaroni necklaces that need making!” She turned on her heel, heading out of the kitchen. At the last moment, she turned around, facing Bill. “Oh, and Bill! I’ll be making at least five for you, and while you’re under this roof, you’re expected to wear them all.” 

“Can do.” Bill saluted, and with a giggle, Mabel departed. Dipper was left standing in the kitchen, with a demon at his side and an overwhelming silence, only broken by the slight leak in the sink faucet. He felt like his head was going to burst. 

“Where are we going?” Bill asked at the tug of Dipper’s hand.  
“Outside.” Dipper replied. “I need to think.” 

“And why should I follow you?” Bill asked, obviously snarky for the sake of it. Dipper sighed. 

“Bill, c’mon.” Dipper began, turning to face the demon behind him. “Please.” Bill stood still for a moment, his head cocked slightly. Thinking. 

“Ok.” Bill complied, and Dipper waited for some kind of witty, vaguely threatening followup. When none came, he simply gave Bill’s hand a slight tug to warn him of his movement and continued leading him outside. 

 

The rain had slowed to a steady trickle, then stopped entirely, leaving the pavement two shades darker and the air cool and steady in the evening haze. Gravity Falls sunk into sleep easily, the town’s lights fading with the sunset. Dipper stared from the porch step, watching the sky burst and bleed over the forest surrounding the Shack. Bill sat beside him, his breathing steady. Almost human. Dipper closed his eyes and thought. It was like time had gone by faster since the afternoon, since he had grabbed onto Bill and not been able to let go. Only now was it slowing down, dragging back to it’s normal speed. His head throbbed listlessly. 

“What time is it?” Bill asked suddenly. Dipper opened his eyes, turning to stare at the demon beside him. He used his free hand to feel his pockets, but felt no phone in any of them. It must have been left in the gift shop.

“Not sure.” Dipper answered. “Sunset?” He offered. Bill was silent once more. Dipper’s mind hadn’t stopped whirring since Bill had entered the picture, and with good reason too. Bill continued to reiterate that he couldn’t hurt Dipper, but Dipper wasn’t quite satisfied. Mabel seemed to get along with Bill well enough, Ford seemed cautious but not unnerved and Stan had even come around to grudgingly accepting him. But Dipper was still uneasy. He had a million questions to ask, each treading deeper and deeper into dangerous territory. But there was one on the tip of his tongue, practically burning a hole in it. 

“How were you blinded?” Dipper asked suddenly. He immediately regretted his words. “Shit, sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just,”

“Relax, kid.” Bill interrupted. “It’s fine.” Dipper cleared his throat, still unsure. Bill groaned. “Seriously, humans are so touchy.” 

“Sorry.” Dipper muttered again. Bill just chuckled.  
“When I’m in my true form,” Bill stared. “I don’t see the things humans do. I see every plane at once. Your plane, my plane, and all the dimensions in between.” 

“Ok.” Dipper said, reminding himself a simple nod wouldn’t suffice. 

“So, when I made myself this body, I could only see one plane. Yours.” Bill continued. “It was strange, and unpleasant. But I liked staring at the sun, so I did.” 

“You…you just stared at the sun?” Dipper asked, slowly, as if he didn’t understand. Bill nodded. 

“Yeah, turns out your weak human retinas can’t handle that.” He shrugged. 

“And now you’re blind.” Dipper stated plainly. 

“Trust me, kid. Your plane didn’t offer much to see.” He said nonchalantly. Dipper stayed silent after that, choosing instead to stare at the sky, it’s blues fading into whispers of pinks and purples, which then receded into loud oranges and reds. Minutes passed, and Dipper allowed himself to feel the weight of Bill’s hand in his. He thought by now his palms would be sweaty, and his fingers strained from holding on. But neither was the case. It simply felt as if Bill’s hand was a continuation of his own. He cursed the Devil’s Trap for the umpteenth time that day. 

“Not much to see.” Dipper marveled, watching the sun sink below the tree line.  

“What?” Bill asked, picking up on Dipper’s odd tone. 

“Nothing,” He stared. “I mean, have you ever seen a sunset?” Bill sighed, as if he was being patient while speaking to a child. 

“Pine Tree, I’ve see stars and moons and supernovas. I’ve seen planets being destroyed and born.” Bill deadpanned. “And yes, I’ve also seen a sunset.”

“Ok, good.” Dipper muttered, his face hot. He wasn’t sure why he had even brought it up. It was silent between them once more, the trees above them rustling in the breeze. A few fireflies began to poke around their feet, darting from the bushes near the edge of the dirt road to the first steps of the porch. Dipper watched them as they flew. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon by now, leaving the sky an inky blue in it’s wake. Stars began to emerge, just like the fireflies. 

“Bill?” Dipper asked.

“That’s my name. Or, the only one of my names that humans can physically stand to hear.” Bill replied. Dipper hesitated, briefly, before reminding himself Bill was harmless for the moment. Almost harmless.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, and I know you can’t hurt me.” Dipper began. Bill turned towards him. “So, you don’t have to answer.” 

“Well, obviously.” Bill cut in, as if he was baffled by the fact that Dipper could even think he could make him do anything. Dipper, steeling his nerve, continued. 

“I just want to know. Why did you come Gravity Falls?” Bill remained silent for a moment, his unseeing gaze fixed on the boy beside him. 

“You know this town isn’t normal, right?” Bill asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Yeah.” Dipper replied. 

“Well, there’s a lot of supernatural energy here. And where there’s supernatural energy, there are monsters and curses and people trying to protect themselves.” Bill explained. “The perfect costumers.” Before Dipper could say anything, Bill was continuing. “And what about you?” He asked. “Why Gravity Falls?” Dipper shrugged, staring up at the stars, trying to count each one.

“Used to come up here every summer to stay in the Shack. Stared finding weird stuff,” He mentally reminded himself not to mention the journals. “It was crazy and kind of terrifying, but… I loved it.” Dipper could feel Bill’s milky eyes on him, questioning even in their sightlessness. “I guess it’s home now.” He would’ve continued, but much to Dipper’s surprise, Bill let out a yawn. “Oh, shit, it’s getting late. You must be tired.”

“It’s the meat sack that’s tired, not me.” Bill said defensively. “Not my fault human bodies need shit like food and water and sleep.” 

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Dipper began. “It’s been a long day. C’mon, you ready to stand?” Bill huffed indignantly, but responded to the tug of Dipper’s hand. Standing up, he carefully made his way back up the porch steps. Stifling a yawn, Dipper led him into the house. He was tired, exhausted even. But he’d be lying if he said he’d sleep a wink that night. “We’re going to the attic, watch your step.” He murmured, leading Bill up the first flight of stairs. Passing Mabel’s bedroom, he recognized the faint baseline of a pop song, just loud enough to be heard through the door. After their return to Gravity Falls, both twins decided it was necessary to have their own bedroom. Having taken over what used to be a storage room (stocked almost exclusively with misprinted T-shirts and failed snow globe concepts), Mabel transformed it into a bedroom/crafting palace (her words, not Dipper’s).Dipper was left with the attic bedroom all to himself, a welcome change from his cramped college dorm. The space where Mabel’s bed had once been was now occupied with a desk and a small bookshelf, each cluttered and overflowing with charts, graphs and his own writing. A mess he was thankful Bill couldn’t see. Once he reached the top of the second flight of stairs, he crossed the small threshold and opened the door to his room. Leading Bill inside, he signified their arrival with a brief “Here.” 

“Locking us up in an attic, Pine Tree?” Bill asked incredulously. 

“It’s my bedroom.” Dipper muttered defensively. Bill simply hummed, taking the lead as he entered the room. He held one hand out in front of him, experimentally. By some miracle, he managed to avoid the tidal wave of paper’s Dipper had crammed to one side of the room, and made it to the bed. 

“And I take it this is yours?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows. Dipper suppressed a groan. 

“Yeah, and tonight it’s yours.” Dipper answered, watching as Bill’s suggestive expression turned to something curious. “You take the bed, I’ll take the floor. We’ll figure out something more,” He paused. “…permanent, tomorrow. Now, if you wouldn’t mind standing I kind of need to get changed.” The last part of his statement came out in a bit of a rush. He had been hoping to avoid it, he really, truly had. But the attic was hot, and his jeans and T-shirt were threatening to stifle him. So, he resigned himself to his fate. He was gonna have to figure out how to get changed, with one hand attached to Bill. Immediately, Bill began to giggle. This wasn’t going to be easy. 

“Pine Tree, you offend my delicate sensibilities!” Bill exclaimed, putting on an air of faux bashfulness.

“Yeah, right.” Dipper deadpanned. Once Bill stood up, Dipper began using his free hand to maneuver his T-shirt sleeve off of his right arm. It took a great deal of patience, not only to preform the task at hand, but to do so while Bill was snickering beside him. 

“Um, maybe if you…no that wouldn’t work,” Dipper began talking, more to himself then Bill, trying to figure out how this was going to happen. Bill could feel him struggling, and chose to stand there, stifling his own laughter. Dipper had gotten one side of his shirt around his shoulders by the time he was completely fed up. 

“I swear, I’m about to get Mabel in here with some scissors.” He cursed. Bill snorted.

“Come on, Pine Tree. Giving up so soon?” He asked. Dipper gritted his teeth. 

“Well, you’re not exactly helping.” He muttered. Bill shook his head, still laughing. 

“You never asked.” Bill reminded, and using his free hand, found the shirt bunched up around Dipper’s shoulders. In a moment, the shirt was gone. 

“Where did you just send my shirt?” Dipper asked, after he had recovered from a moment of shock. 

“The void.” Bill said with a shrug. For a moment, Dipper was silent, absorbing what Bill had just said to him. It had taken a second for his world to concave, a simple grasp of a hand to throw him into a situation where he was at a complete loss of what to do. It was horrifying, unnerving and completely unexpected. A single moment, and Dipper had become attached to a demon, linked to a force of darkness for however long it took Ford to find a solution. And now, said demon was telling him in a completely steady tone of voice that he had sent Dipper’s shirt to the void, whatever the hell that meant. It was, in all honesty, the most terrified Dipper had ever been.

So Dipper began to laugh. A breathless, exhausted, guttural laugh. Half worn out and delirious, Dipper let himself laugh, about the inexplainable nature of his life and improbability of his own situation. Truly, it was pretty hilarious. 

“Kid?” Bill questioned, his own laughter long gone. “You alright?” 

“Y-yeah.” Dipper stuttered, gasping for air. “Yeah, but I mean. C’mon, Bill. The void? Really?” Bill furrowed his brow, obviously confused. 

“Yeah, what about it?” This response only made Dipper laugh harder, practically doubling him over. 

“Guess it’s where my shirt lives now.” Dipper managed to speak once more, wheezing between spouts of laughter. Bill shrugged. 

“I can get it back, if you want.” He offered. “Just seemed like the easiest place to put it.” 

“No, you know what?” Dipper began, finally sobering up slightly. “Leave it there.” Bill said nothing, simply stood still and felt as Dipper shook from another peel of laughter. Once he had quieted down, he turned to face Bill. “Sorry, dude. I’m just…” He struggled to find the right word. Scared? Lost? Insane?

“Human tired.” Bill stated, as if he already knew the answer. Dipper grinned.

“Yeah.” He said, his exhaustion once again hitting him like a wave. “Human tired.” Rubbing his free hand over his face, Dipper decided whatever normal bedtime routine he had could wait. He just needed to lie down. Besides, facing the new complications Bill brought to it could wait until daylight. 

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any demon PJs you’re planning on wearing?” Dipper asked. 

“Didn’t exactly get a packing list.” Bill muttered. 

“Oh, well I can,” Dipper began, ready to offer up a shirt or pair of sweatpants or something. 

“It’s fine, kid.” Bill reassured. “I’ll make something tomorrow, when I have more energy.” 

“Right, yeah. Sorry, you can go to bed.” Dipper began. “Wait, one sec.” Dipper gave Bill’s hand a slight tug before leading him over to the beside table. He switched off his lamp, plunging the room into darkness, save for the flashes of moonlight blinking through the triangular window. “Bed’s right behind you.” Dipper muttered, his eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light. They adjusted quickly enough for him to catch Bill’s eyebrow waggle. 

“Pine Tree, how presumptuous!” Bill exclaimed as he backed onto the bed, pressing a hand to his heart. He sat down on it with a slight thump. “Are you a cuddler?” He asked, lying down on his back so that his attached arm was dangling off the side of the bed. Dipper ignored the question, choosing instead to focus on lying down on the floor so his connected arm was suspended above him, almost on the bed. It wasn’t comfortable, but it didn’t matter. Despite his exhaustion, Dipper wasn’t about to doze off. 

“Night, Bill.” He said into the darkness. 

“Goodnight, Pine Tree. What’s that thing humans say about bed bugs?” 

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite?” Dipper offered.

“Yeah, whatever.” Bill said through a yawn. “Goodnight, some bugs might bite you.” Dipper let out a small breath of laughter, and began to wait. Staring up at the ceiling, in almost total darkness, it was hard to measure time passing. But it wasn’t long before Bill’s breathing had evened out. Dipper counted his blessing that he wasn’t a snorer. Feeling thoughts of sleep threaten to overwhelm him, Dipper began to list things in his head. Top ten favorite algorithms. Favorite History channel shows. Numbers between 1 and 1,000. It worked, for a while. Kept his brain mindlessly awake. But soon, the weight on his eyelids became to much, and despite all his worries and qualms against it, he was falling asleep. Too tired to protest, Dipper let himself fall into a restless, muddled sleep. 

He dreamed about rain, the color yellow, and fireflies. And hands, small and open and in his own. He let go. 

 

The creaking of the attic door jolted Dipper awake, eyes shooting open at the first hint of sound. Mouth dry and vision blurry, he looked around for the noise. In the doorway, framed in the unsteady light of the moon, stood Mabel. His back and shoulders aching from the hardwood floors, Dipper sat up slowly, careful not to rose Bill.

“Mabel?” He muttered into the almost darkness. Shutting the door carefully behind her, Mabel entered the attic bedroom and tip-toed over to her brother. She crouched down beside him, resting on her knees. “What time is it?”

“Almost three.” She answered in a whisper. 

“What are you doing here?” He continued, matching her hushed tone.  

“Wanted to make sure you were ok.” She confessed. 

“Mabel, I’m fine.” He assured. 

“No, you’re not.” She began. Dipper hesitated. He hated lying to his sister, and she knew it. 

“Ok, yeah, I’m not.” He finally confessed. “But, seriously. it’s-”

“Dipper, listen to me.” Mabel insisted, quieting her brother. He stared at her, his eyes unsure in the dim light of the attic. “I know you’re scared. We all are.” 

“But,” He began. 

“No Buts!” She interrupted, her voice barely brushing above a whisper. “We’re all scared, bro. But Grunkle Stan is looking out for you. Ford is looking out for you.” She went back to whispering, barely understandable. “And I’m looking out for you.” Dipper let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and nodded, accepting the reassurance Mabel offered.

“Thanks.” His half-smile was met with a full fledged grin. 

“Mystery twins?” Mabel offered, holding out a fist. 

“Mystery twins.” He agreed, meeting her fist for a bump. Giving his hair a slight ruffle, Mabel stood once more. 

“Get some more sleep.” She said as she backed towards the door. “And next time, Dipping-dots.” She paused in the doorway. “Just use the same bed.” And with that, she was rushing out the door and back down stairs. Dipper shook his head, baffled by his sister’s inexplicable ability to play guardian and matchmaker at the same time. Settling back down, Dipper shut his eyes to the vaulted ceiling, granting himself at least another hour or two of rest. He began to doze, measuring his breathing, trying to match it with the even pace of Bill’s. Another breath, and he was drifting into a now dreamless sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge thank u to everyone leaving comments/kudos/bookmarks!!


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